Dear Anne

Letter #14

     Dear Anne,

I dreamed I was walking the streets of Paris in the nude last night. I woke up with a start and realized it was only a dream. I wonder where my secret mind was to put me in such a plight. The thing was no one seemed to notice. I was out there in my all-together, and no one paid any attention. They continued with their business as though nothing extraordinary was happening.

Am I that unnoticeable? Perhaps I'm no different from anyone else. There is nothing that stands out about me or distinguishes me from another person. My physique is okay, don't you think? I don't have a third eye or another arm or anything that would make me stand out in a crowd. Perhaps that's what the dream was all about.

Day after day, I set up my easel on the sidewalk. No one stops or pays attention to me. I have seen other artists with crowds gathered around them. They sell their paintings on the street, one after the other. I've sold, what? Two or three, perhaps.

Remember that woman from the sidewalk café? I was quite obsessed with her for a while. She's never appeared again. Sometimes I look for her. Perhaps her brute boyfriend took her away from Paris or perhaps they were just tourists. Who knows. I was thinking about her the other day. I don't know why. She impressed me during my early days. Do those impressions stick with you and show up from time to time? I wonder.

Your last letter from very chatty. Did you apply for that job at Macy's? You said you might. You don't belong at a kiosk in the mall. It's a dead-end job particularly for a novelist. Find something better. There are opportunities in the mall. I suppose you don't want an office job or a bank job. That would really strain your writing time. Still, you must have something to keep your head above water.

If I didn't have that trust from grandma, I wouldn't keep afloat. I'm a sinking ship if I only relied on selling my paintings. Father practically called me stupid in his last email. He's begging me to give up on Paris and come home. I told him I haven't found myself yet. He says I can find myself at home. I can't! I feel trapped there. He says if I won't come home, I should go back to school. I had enough of school. I barely made it through high school. Why torture myself any further?

You're a smart gal. Explain it to me. Explain my father and his persistence. He wants to rule my life, order me around, tell me what to do. I can't, and we fight practically all the time. I'm a peaceful man, mostly. I hate confrontation yet my father pricks me the wrong way. I can't control my temper with him. Do you get it?

How is your relationship with your folks? You hardly speak about them. Any brothers or sisters? Tell me more about yourself, dear Anne. I wish I had a sibling. Maybe it would help buffer with situation with father. Mother wouldn't have another baby. She said one pregnancy was enough. She experienced childbirth once and closed that portal for good. Then she died, leaving me with father. Lucky for me.

I guess I bitched enough for one session.

Love

Corey